


Revenant

by the loupe (theloupe)



Category: Infinite Undiscovery
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Mind Control, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-01
Updated: 2011-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-14 07:31:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/146884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theloupe/pseuds/the%20loupe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Revenant – one that returns after death or a long absence.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Revenant

They were all shocked when they found them. How couldn't they be? It was a surreal moment to intrude upon, Capell crouching by the limp body of a man who died years ago, who looked just as they last saw him. No one could find the words to speak. How could this be?

And then the body exhaled in a low hiss. Red eyes opened abruptly, armor jingled as he pushed himself upright. Edward's breath caught in his throat. No one could break – or perhaps, no one could find the will to break – the stunned silence. _It was him._

“Lord Sigmund!”

Edward was the first to find his voice. It didn't matter how, it didn't matter why. He was back. He came back! Of course he did. Lord Sigmund would never abandon them. He was just-

But Edward's joy was met with nothing but an unreadable stare. That face was like a mask; too still, too impassive. A lump rose in Edward's throat, but he swallowed it down again.

“Father?”

Capell's voice was barely a hesitant whisper, and Edward felt a shade of his old anger. Surely he should be ecstatic to have Lord Sigmund – to have _his father_ back. Edward's father was never coming back. Even as he thought it, he knew how wrong this was. His father was never coming back because the dead didn't- ...this shouldn't be possible. And yet...

The response was more of the same piercing stare. Sigmund took a step forward; Capell took a step back, shaking his head slowly. Sigmund reached for him, but the movement was wrong. There was no other way to describe it. People didn't move that way. As soon as Sigmund's fingers brushed his arm, Capell jerked away and ran. The rest followed after him, like a spooked herd, and Edward was left standing alone.

Instead of giving chase, Sigmund turned his gaze to him. It was hard to say how long he stood there, transfixed, but it couldn't have been too long. He could hear Capell calling for him, panicked, in the distance. However long it had been, Sigmund hadn't moved. Edward wasn't sure he had even breathed.

The first step backwards felt like the ground had turned to sucking mud beneath his feet. The second step was only marginally easier. Aya's voice joined Capell's, and Edward finally tore himself away. He only looked back once. Sigmund was still standing there, still as stone.

Capell grabbed him by the arm as soon as he caught up, his fingers tightening painfully until Edward tried to pull away and he loosened his grip. “We're leaving.”

“But Lord Sigmund-” Edward glanced back one more time, torn. Capell was his dearest friend, but _Sigmund_... wasn't there.

There was no sign of him as they made their way back into town. Edward couldn't squash his rising disappointment. He'd been so close, but he...

When they arrived at the inn, they decided to eat together. No one seemed to want to be alone. It was a miserable affair, with everyone staring at the table and no one trying to make conversation. Capell picked idly at a plate of fruit, apparent lost in thought. Michelle ordered a bowl of soup, but started crying as soon as the first spoonful touched her lips. Edward listened to her whimper and sniffle, staring blindly down at his food until finally his rage welled up and he shoved his plate away, knocking over a couple glasses in the process.

“How could you all just leave him there?!”

Capell just barely met his eyes, face drawn, and looked away again without a word. Edward wanted to hit him, again and again, until he admited that he abandoned Sigmund, that this was all his fault. Even as he thought it, he didn't understand. He owed Capell his life, Capell was his friend... but he couldn't get the image out of his mind. He couldn't stop thinking about how satisfying it would be.

Eugene frowned at him. “Edward, can't you see that it wasn't Sigmund?”

He was always admonishing him, like he was a child. “Shut up!” He stood up so fast that his chair skittered backwards and fell over.

“ _Edward._ ”

“You don't deserve to see him again! Any of you!”

He was storming out the door before they had time to protest, and he didn't look back. How could they dare? Just being in the same room as them made him sick. He was going to find Sigmund, even if he had to look for days.

He didn't.

He wasn't ten steps out of the town when Sigmund seemed to materialize out of the evening gloom. As before, he said nothing. Edward froze, mesmerized. Without his bidding, his foot took a step backwards. Sigmund took a step forwards. And then again, and again, and soon they were heading up the path to the next village.

A hush of silence seemed to follow them. Nothing made a noise. Not an evening bird, not an animal in the forest, not even an insect. It was hard to tell how long they'd been walking with this surreal atmosphere. Finally, though it shamed Edward to admit it, he could walk no longer. He raised his head to glance at Sigmund, to see if he was perhaps ready to stop for the night.

He wasn't there.

Edward couldn't turn back now. It was too dark, and he had no clue how far he was from a town, in either direction. Now that Sigmund was gone again, his friends' words were echoing in his mind. _Can't you see that it wasn't Sigmund?_ No, no. He wouldn't listen to them. He wouldn't abandon Sigmund. Never. Even if... even if Sigmund abandoned him.

He was too exhausted to make a proper camp. He settled into what little shelter he could find just off the road, and drifted into a light and uneasy sleep.

When he awoke, it was morning. Sigmund was crouching across from him, face as mask-like as it was the day before. Between them was a hunk of raw meat on a large leaf. Edward looked at it, and then at Sigmund, but there wasn't even a flicker of expression in his eyes. Edward didn't want to offend him, but this was raw. He couldn't just eat it like this. Without breaking eye contact, Sigmund leaned forward and pushed the meat towards him expectantly.

Edward ate it.

They continued this way for days. Edward never saw another living creature on the road. Whenever they approached a town, Sigmund disappeared. After the second time, Edward began avoiding the villages. Given the choice between supplies and his lord, he knew which he wanted.

Sooner than he expected, they were in Burguss. Edward wasn't certain how he felt about that. He had responsibilities in Burgusstadt that were sure to tear him away from what really mattered now. He wouldn't let that happen. He'd hide out here forever if he had to.

It must have been weeks later when someone caught up with them. They'd found a cave, deep in the Graad Woods, and made something of a home there. Edward rarely left it anymore. His lord provided everything he needed to live. There was no reason to leave.

The soldier that discovered them seemed to have different ideas. It was near twilight, and Edward was cleaning their cave of any debris that might have blown in during the day. His lord would return soon with his meat. Everything needed to be perfect for him.

That was when the soldier came crashing through the underbrush, breathing hard, eyes frantic.

Edward found him vaguely recognizable, but he couldn't place from where. While he was trying to puzzle that out, the man grabbed hold of his arm and tried to drag him away. He was saying things, but Edward found it distressingly difficult to understand. He didn't have time to worry about it.

Silent as a stalking predator, his lord appeared out of the shadows. Edward wrenched his arm away and covered his face. A snap and a wet thud later, there was no more soldier to understand.

A hunk of meat was dropped into Edward's lap, and he looked up into that mask of a face. The blue moonlight filtering through the canopy of the trees cast deep shadows onto it, but the eyes were inhumanly bright.

Edward huddled over and looked away.

It wasn't Sigmund. It wasn't Sigmund at all.

But a hand pressed between his shoulder blades, too hard to be anything more than a mockery of affection, and a low rumble sounded from the creature behind him, and Edward knew it was too late to make a difference.

He missed him too much to care.


End file.
